FrUk One Shots
by killerkitty15
Summary: This is a series of one shots about FrUk (and the FACE family) in many forms, in many alternate universes. Shots rated T to M (M includes smut of the yaoi, yuri and hetero variety). Will do many different themes and what not but ALSO takes suggestions if placed in the review/comment section.
1. At the Beach -FemEnglandxMFrance (FACE)

**THIS IS A BUNCH OF ONE SHOTS ABOUT FRUK AND THE FACE FAMILY**

**WILL INCLUDE BUT NOT LIMITED TO:**

_**Smut (yuri, yaoi, hetero)**_

_**Fluff**_

_**Nyotalia**_

_**2ps**_

_**Cute family moments**_

_**Cute COUPLE moments**_

_**Nekotalia (because i like cats)**_

_**Nation verse**_

_**Human verse**_

_**AUs in general**_

_**Ratings T to MA**_

**~I also accept requests~**

**NOW WE BEGIN!**

* * *

_**1# At the Beach -Fem!EnglandxM!France (FACE)**_

The salt of the ocean clung to the insides of Francis' nose, his arms crossed behind his head as he inhaled deeply. This was definitely what his family needed. He was laying on a beach towel, underneath a beach umbrella with his feet in the sun, being warmed and sunglasses over his eyes while his wife of twelve years lounged on the towel beside his. Just the sound of waves crashing, seagulls crying and children playing had a relaxed smile stretching his lips and he looked over at his beautiful wife. His wife, Alice, had her body propped up on one elbow, her left arm holding a book that she was currently reading. Her glasses her perched at the end of her button nose, her adorable, bushy eyebrows smoothed in relaxation, her long, blonde hair in her standard pigtails and a bikini with the English flag on it covered her unmentionables. The sun shown on her, making her seem like a studious angel, making Francis' breath catch at her beauty -her effortless _radiance_ -and his libido stir. _Why did they have to be in public?!_

"Mon amour, w'at are you reading?" he asked with a relaxed smile and lazy blink.

Pushing up her glasses with her slender, agile index finger, she turned to look at her French husband with electric green eyes that danced like ocean waves and glittered like the sun. "A novel by Nicolas Sparks," she said simply, dog earring her page before closing her book and placing it on the towel next to her hip, the way her words blending together and curled at the edges made a shiver run down Francis' spine. It wasn't his fault his very British wife was very, _very_, hot and sexy and _cute, _"Have you been watching the kids, frog?"

"Oui, oui," Francis said rolling onto his side, head held up by his right hand and elbow, "Zhey are fine. Zhey are playing in ze water."

Alice pressed her cupid bow lips in a thin line, eyes darting around for their two children, Alfred at ten and Madeline at seven. She finally found them splashing and swimming in the water, Alfred pouncing on Madeline and dunking her. "_Alfred_!" she snapped the panic edging her sentence almost perfect masked by anger and disappointment, "Don't you dare dunk your sister, young man, you and I know that she cannot swim well!"

"M'sorry, Mommy!"

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Madeline!"

"Sorry 'bout dunkin' you, Sissy~!"

"I-It's ok, Al!"

With that issue taken care of, Alice lounged back on her elbows, right leg bent while the other lay flat, and watched her children and the people near by. Francis watched her watching the people, his smile seeming to grow with each passing, relaxing moment. "Mon cher, you are such a good mozher~."

She blushed, eyes snapping away from a Swedish man, his Finnish husband and their adopted son, to glare at her husband. Why she ever married this wanker, she would never know. "Sh-Shut up, frog! I wasn't just-just going to let him accidentally drown her!"

"Hmm..." Francis hummed reaching out and cupping her slender cheek in his bigger, rough hand although those hand never touched anything with less than gentleness and utter care, "Alice, mon lapin" -his hand slid down her cheek until only his fingertips remained on her face -"will you please lay down wizh moi" -his fingertips moved to her lips, gently tracing Alice's plump bottom lip and the edge of her thinner top lip -"I get zo lonely wizh out you by mon zide~?" With an indignant huff and embarrassed pout that sent desire tickling down his spine, Alice finally -reluctantly -consented. Blushing all the while, she moved aside her novel and laid down on her side, left arm bent beneath her head as she faced Francis. "W'at eez wrong, lapin?" he asked with a flirty smile as he placed his left hand on the indent of Alice's waist, "I 'ave already zeen you naked, zhere's nozhing you should be embarrassed about."

"Ugh! You perverted git!" she exclaimed furiously slapping his chest, only to have her hand trapped and held, palm flat, over Francis' heart beat. This only made her blush more, "D-Damn you..."

"Hmm...oui, damn me..." Francis said in an amused tone, his hand slipping down her waist to her abdomen, fingertips gently tracing the stretch marks on her flat stomach; self consciously, she flinched back but that only made Francis' pressed his entire hand against her abdomen, rubbing up and down in appreciative motions, "damn me to 'ell for finding mon wife completely irresistible to touch. Damn me for 'aving zuch a beautiful woman in mon presence."

"...yes, damn you..." she muttered surrendering to the hand rubbing her abdomen, pressing into his touch and making him grin wickedly.

"_MOMMY!_"

Both adults flew apart, Francis propping himself up on his elbows while Alice's "mom mode" was activated and she sat up fully, now on full alert. "Alfred, what ever is the matter?" she asked worriedly.

"M-Mommy, Maddie fell and-and she hurt her knee on a-a rock!" Alfred said practically in tears as he brought Madeline to his mother, carrying the petite girl on his back. He eased Madeline onto the sand, her face red and tears dripping off her chin as she held her bleeding knee.

"Mama, it hu-hurts," Madeline sobbed, scrubbing her eyes with a tiny fist.

Alice clucked her tongue. "Oh, darling, I know. Come here, I have band-aids in my bag. Sit by Daddy, now."

Nodding, Madeline wobbled to Francis who scooped her up in his arms. He sat her down in his lap, stroking her hair and letting her cuddle into his chest. "Oh, mon petite, does eet 'urt terribly?" he asked softly rocking her; whimpering, Madeline nodded. "My oh my, zhat eez awful! You are zo brave for dealing wizh zhis pain, cher."

"Ah ha!" Alice exclaimed, triumphantly pulling a Minnie Mouse band-aid from her purse. She also retrieved the disinfectant, dabbing the gel on Madeline's wound and making the little girl yelp and whimper, before placing the band-aid gently over the scrap, "There you go, baby, do you want Mummy to kiss it better?" Shyly, Madeline nodded as her tears slowly stopped trickling down her face. Alice rubbed the sides of the little girl's knee before bending and kissing the band-aid, making the blonde little girl giggle. "All better?"

"Oui, Mama~."

"...I'm sorry, it's all my fault she got hurt..." Alfred said suddenly, his tiny fists clenched, "I...I wasn't paying attention and she tripped..."

"No, no, love, it was an accident," his mother cooed, pulling Alfred onto her lap and pushing his head onto her shoulder, "It's alright, none of us blame you and I'm sure Maddie isn't mad. Right, darling?"

"Yup, I'm not mad Al~!"

"R...Really?"

"Yes, really," Alice said pushing his wet bangs from his forehead and smiling lovingly down at him, Francis' heart skipping a beat as he took in the sight. His wife looked to be truly in her element as she calmed and soothed their children, looking like a pure, loving angel worthy of admiration and worship.

"Alice," Francis said suddenly and seriously, "I am going to kiss you now."

"W-WHAT?!" she exclaimed blushing bright red from her neck to the tips of her ears and the roots of her hair, "B-B-B-But -tha-that's not -that's entirely inappropriate-!" Her words were cut off by Francis crashing his lips to hers, trapping their kids between them.

"_Ewwwwwwwwwwww_!" they both chorused. Francis managed to get a few longing, deep, firm, closed mouth kisses in before the children began squirming and their parents had to free them.

"Pervert," Alice panted face red as she leaned in for more.

He smiled, meeting her half way, "I know."

* * *

**BAM**

**REVIEW**

**I HOPE YOU LIKED IT**

**MAKE SUGGESTIONS**

**IT'S LATE AND I LOVE YOU,**

**~Kitty**


	2. Why He Loves Him (France edition) (yaoi)

**Soooo...this is a rant?**

_**Warning: yaoi, mentions of sexual content, sorry for any grammar mistakes!**_

* * *

_**2# Why He Loves Him (France edition) -FrUk (Nation Verse)**_

_Ears:_

He loved Arthur's cute ears, how small they were and how they were pointed at the top. They resembled the ears of the elves Arthur always liked to go on about. He loved to kiss those ears, suck on the ear lobes and lap at the shells. When he did that, Arthur would make the cutest gasps and squeals, reminding the Frenchman of teenage love.

_Eyes and Eyebrows:_

They were the Brit's best features, or at least two of them. Francis couldn't help but want to drown himself in the dancing emerald and gold hues of the other's eyes; they were always so big and bright, giving away his emotions when Arthur refused to facially show them or say anything out loud. They were like the eyes of a doll, framed by paper thin eyelids and thick eyelashes. His eyebrows, those big, caterpillars on his face, were the most adorable thing Francis had ever seen. He had lied, all those centuries ago. Arthur's eyebrows were beautiful and cute and made his face look perfect. If the Brit plucked them, and they stayed plucked, Francis would through a fit. Francis loved to press kisses to his eyelids and eyebrows, making Arthur flustered and embarrassed. But he _loved_ them. He did.

_Lips:_

If someone thought Arthur's eyes and eyebrows were not the prettiest work of art ever seen, then there was no denying that Arthur's next best feature was his lips. Fragile, pink lips as soft as the underside of a rose with a bottom lip bigger than the top. Francis new how fragile those lips were, how bruise able they were as his teeth nibbled and his tongue tasted, lost in a heated moment of intimacy. He loved how they'd turn raw red and slight dark purple at the end of the night, when they were both tired and content from the physical activities that led to dirtied sheets and chilling, sweaty skin.

_Body:_

Francis loved Arthur's body, although there were some things he didn't necessarily like as well. He didn't like how skinny Arthur's body was, how the Englishman could never gain weight, how his waist was always too small and feminine for a man and how his ribs were always peaking out. He knew this was from undernourishment due to the plagues, sickness and starvation back in the early days of England; events that may or may not have been because of Francis. Because of France. His people. His country. His kings, queens and leaders. Still, Francis kissed every rib and battle scar -paying special attention to the ones he had inflicted -on Arthur's body, teeth clenching around adorable pink nipples. He licked at bony hips, kissed every freckle and "blemish", whatever Arthur considered an imperfection that Arthur despised yet Francis adored. Francis' favorite parts, though, were Arthur's legs -how'd they curl and clench around his torso, drawing him further inside -and his nails -how they left bleeding, uneven gashes down his back -and Arthur's neck -so sensitive and soft, like feeling silk against his rough face.

_Inside:_

Need he say more? Arthur was no virgin, neither was Francis, but Arthur's insides always welcomed greedily and accepted eagerly. There was no awkward, virginal bleeding Francis had to worry about; he only had to worry about stretching Arthur too much, tearing something inside by being too rough, and making sure to hit that _"ohmyfuckinggod"_ spot that made Arthur loose control, arch his back and scream. He made sure Arthur came more than once, feeling more pleasure than he. He made Arthur feel loved, beautiful, happy, as they writhed on top of the bed sheets.

_Heart:_

Francis, above all else, loved Arthur's heart. How capable he was to feel, how strong those emotions were. Arthur loved Alfred -America -and Matthieu -Canada -like sons, even when they left him. Even when Alfred betrayed him. Even when Matthieu showed Francis and Arthur that he was not some simpering maid, earning their respect and his independence. Arthur loved them, they were family, they were his babies, and they would always love the Brit for the sacrifices he made and the love he gave. Alfred would still come crying to him if he was hurt. Matthieu would talk to Arthur every other week over the phone or via email. They both sent Arthur's flowers and chocolates for Valentine's Day and Mother's Day. The four of them -Francis, Arthur, Alfred and Matthieu -would all gather for Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, New Year's, Easter, birthdays and -sometimes -St. Patrick's Day at Arthur's brother's country of Ireland. Or for St. Patrick's Day in one of Alfred's big cities. Francis loved Arthur for all the love Arthur gave him; all the smiles, breakfast attempts, good morning, hello, good bye and good night kisses shared, the cold, rainy nights spent in front of the fire, cuddling together beneath a warm blankets, falling asleep curled together and spooning. Francis offered his heart as a sacrifice, gaining Arthur's in return.

Because that's how they worked. They fought like dogs, maintaining a symbiotic love and peaceful, soothing life. They loved. They lost. They felt anger, betrayal, heartbreak, lust, love, passion, compassion, friendship, hope, happiness, depression, anxiety, fear, peace, desire, want, need. To Francis, Arthur was his everything; Arthur reminded Francis of the moon, beautiful and sometimes untouchable, but always present -even when you can't see it -and soothing. A light in the darkness. Arthur's was Francis' light, the moonbeams in a cold, unforgiving night.

Francis loved Arthur. There was no doubting that.

* * *

**BAM!**

**Sorry for the wait, guys!**

**I need some things from you guys:**

**One -suggestions that you can post in the comment section OR private message me. I need these so I can write more chapters about stuff that YOU GUYS want!**

**Two -REVIEWS REVIEWS REVIEWS! I need your reviews to let me know how I'm doing**

**Three -I NEED YOUR LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUVVV!**

**Anyway, that third one was weird, but the statement still stands.**

**Review**

**Comment**

**Suggest**

**With love,**

**~kitty**


	3. What Goes Bump In the Night -FACE

**Dun Dun! This is the third one shot and a request from _MangasAndMaple_!**

**Please enjoy and read the warnings!**

_**Warnings: yaoi, implied smut, fluff, chibi 'Murkia and Canadia, America being cute and naïve, Canada being cute and French, I apologizes for any grammar/spelling errors in English and any language mistakes in French**_

* * *

_**3# What Goes Bump in the Night? (FACE Family) (Human AU) (Names like "Angleterre" are used as a sweet nickname, not because they're nations)**_

At dinner, the atmosphere was tense. Papa had come home late, saying he had been stuck cleaning after a sous chef who didn't know what he was doing. Daddy had glared at him, arms crossed over his chest, as he yelled at Papa in a hushed voice; Alfred and Matthew tried to hang over the banister, pressing their chubby faces in between the spaces in the white, wooden bars of the banister. They tried to hear what Daddy was saying but all they heard was angry murmurs, a _slap_ of skin against skin, tearing cloth, more angry whispers, the _thump_ of a body softly hitting the wall then silence.

"What do ya think they're doin', Mattie?"

"I dunno..." the Canadian whispered, "Wanna go see?"

"Yeah!" Alfred cheered quietly, following his twin down the carpeted stairs and sliding across the oak floors and into the entry way. They saw Daddy pushed up against the wall, his leg wrapped possessively around Papa's waist, his hands gripping the back of Papa's long, wavy hair in fistfuls as Papa held up Daddy's leg by the thigh with his right hand on Daddy's butt. They had their lips pressed together, spit on the corners of their mouths and their tongues wiggling in each other's mouths, like worms. "_Ew_!" Alfred couldn't help but exclaim, crinkling his nose in disgust, "That's gross! What are you guys doing?!"

Abruptly, they pulled apart, panting heavily and blushing in embarrassment. The two adults shared a look with each other, talking with out words as they settled a few inches apart and straightened themselves out. "Alfred, sugar plum, how would you like to go help Papa with dinner?" Arthur suggested with a motherly smile as he tried to smooth down his unruly hair. "Mattie, pancake, do you want to help me mend Papa and Alfie's shirts?"

"_YEAH_!"

"_OUI_!"

When dinner was made and they all sat down at the table together, Alfred and Matthew noticed how their Papa and Daddy kept looking at each other. It was a look full of an emotion that Matthew and Alfred didn't under stand, but it intrigued them all the same. Papa gave them a bath, like normal, and Daddy cleaned the dishes and put the clothes that had been in the washing machine in the drier, like normal. Daddy helped put on Alfred's superman pajamas made out of cotton and Papa helped Matthew put on his polar bear jammies made out of flannel; they all crowded in Matthew's bed since Alfred's was a red race car and wouldn't be big enough, and Daddy read them "The Story of the Three Bears" and "Jack and the Bean Stalk". Papa and Daddy sat super close to each other, Papa placing his hand high up on Daddy's leg and making his face turn bright red; Alfred cuddled against his Daddy and Matthew cuddled against his Papa until both of them got bleary eyed and their heads began to bob up and down. Papa tucked Matthew in, humming a French lullaby under his breath as he soothed the boy's long hair back and kissed his forehead and doll like eyelashes, lashes that Matthew surely inherited from whoever his mother was; Daddy carried Alfred over to his race car bed, huffing under the boy's weight, he whispered "good night"s and "I love you"s as he kissed Alfred's chubby cheeks and nose, a nose long and thin, slightly crooked, a nose surely inherited from whoever his father was. They walked to the door, turning off the light but waiting until they saw the night light, shaped like a moon, come on; as they closed the door, Papa wrapped his arms around Daddy's waist, sliding his big, slim fingered hands down Daddy's green sweater clad abdomen as Daddy closed the bedroom door.

The twins laid in the dimly lite darkness of their bedroom, Alfred breathing quietly through his mouth as he rolled over onto his stomach and Matthew making a quiet, mumbling noise of contentment as he shifted and rolled over on his side, his back facing Alfred. A car flew passed, crunching gravel and casting an orange-yellow glow into their room, illuminating their pale yellow painted walls and the blue silhouettes of birds flying on the walls. Their bookcase, toys and toy box sent low, stretching shadows along the walls and tan, carpeted floors. All of a sudden, everything was still and quiet, even the cicadas stopped making their clicking and buzzing noises, leaving the twins' breathing as the only noise in what seemed like the entire house.

That was until they heard a _thump_ come from the room next to theirs. Daddy and Papa's bedroom. The _thump_ against the wall was followed by a quiet moan and a gasp of: _"Francis!"_ The two boys ignored it at first, thinking that their parents were fighting over something stupid again, a normal happening; they only opened their eyes when they heard another _thump_ and a loud groan that sounded like: _"A-Again...!"_ -it faded into something so quiet, the twins couldn't hear, then _-"Please!"_

"Mattie...what do you think they're doing?" Alfred whispered, "Are they hurting each other?"

"I don't think so..." the other murmured, rolling over on his side so he could face his brother, their blue eyes meeting, "Papa wouldn't hurt Daddy-."

Matthew was cut off by the sound of their parent's bed squeaking violently, Francis releasing a sharp gasp of: "Angleterre!"

Alfred and Matthew looked at each other, fear coating the back of their throats, making their eyes sting with tears as their stomach cramped and dropped to their ankles. "We have to" -constant thumps were coming from their parents' room -"w-we have to make sure they aren't gettin' hurt, Mattie! What if a bad guy's in there?!"

"I dunno, Al, maybe we should call the p-police-."

"No, we can't do that!" Alfred shouted tossing aside his blankets and standing up on the floor, fists on his hips and chin tilted up in a "hero" pose, "It'll be too late by the time they get here! We need to be like Batman and Robin. I'll be Batman and you'll be Robin!"

"Why do I gotta always be the sidekick..." the long hair twin whined, pouting as he stood up and grabbed his glasses. "O-Ok...so...what do we do, Al?"

"We need weapons," he said with a sage like nod, going over to their toy box and grabbing two foam swords and two foam shields, "Here. This'll protect ya, Mattie, but you don't gotta worry, though, 'cause I gonna protect you, kay?"

"Kay..." Matthew said, skeptically eyeing the swords but following his brother's plan anyway. They walked over to their parents' room, wiggling the door knob but finding that the door wouldn't open.

"Why won't it open?!"

"You're turning it the wrong way."

Alfred turned the door knob to the left, blushing when the door opened easily. "Oh." They raised their swords, running in with their swords up, Francis rolling off of Arthur just in time and pulling the blanket up to cover himself and his husband.

"M-Mon petits!" the Frenchman stuttered out, blushing and breaking out in a nervous sweat. "W-W'at are you doing?"

Matthew, more observant than his oblivious brother, gazed intensely at his parents. Both were shirtless, bright red and panting, Daddy's neck and chest wet with bruises popping up beneath the spit and Papa's hair was messy, looking like it had been pulled a lot, and Matthew could see scratches on his chest, arms and a little bit on his shoulder blades and back. It took him only a moment before his face bloomed red and he laughed a little, French, "ohonhon~" knowingly. "Desole, Papa et Daddy," Matthew squeaked cheerily, "Alfie thought that you were getting attacked!"

"Why would you think that, baby?" Arthur asked, ever the concerned Daddy as he wrapped the blanket around himself to cover his hard nipples, bare chest and his lower half.

"We heard banging" -the innuendo was not intended but it didn't go unnoticed by Francis and Arthur who shared a look -"and groaning and thought you guys were gettin' beat up by the bad guys!"

"Pft, don't be ridiculous," Arthur said rolling his eyes with a gentle smile, "but, if it makes you feel better, why don't you sleep with us tonight?"

"Really?!" the American exclaimed with a beaming smile, as Francis looked at the Brit with an incredulous expression, "_Yay_!"

"Oui, _goodie_," Francis said sarcastically, "Mon chers, w'y don't you come up 'ere w'ile your Daddy et I take a grown up zhower?"

"Ok!" Alfred exclaimed, not noticing his Daddy's embarrassed and excited expression as they shuffled out the door. But he did notice they were only wearing their pants, which was sort of weird. "Hmmmm, I wonder why Papa and Daddy didn't have their shirts..." he mused as he crawled into the center of his parents' bed.

"...Alfred, they were making babies."

"What?!" he yelped, alarmed, watching his brother with wide eyes as Matthew climbed up into the center of the bed, laying next to him. "No they weren't!"

"_Oui_, they were. I read about it in one of Papa's books before."

"How?! We're only seven and he doesn't allow us to read grown up books!"

"I'm a lot better reader than you, Al."

"_No_!"

"_Oui_!"

In the end, they bickered themselves to exhaustion, and ended up falling asleep huddled up together. When Francis and Arthur returned after they were done "showering", their eyes fell upon their sons and a warm feeling spread from their hearts and out towards their limbs, making them smile.

"Zhey are adorable."

"Hmmm, yes, they are."

They pulled on boxers and frumpy t-shirts that they owned since college, slipping in beside their boys. Arthur laid on his side beside Alfred while Francis laid on his side beside Matthew; the Brit reached over, entwining their fingers so that both children were nestled between the arms and bodies of their parents. "I love you, Francis."

"Je t'aime aussi, mon lapin," he purred, sitting up on his elbow and leaning over the sleeping bodies of Matthew and Alfred in order to kiss his husband. Arthur kissed back, leaning on his elbow and arching his neck in an attempt to get closer, pressing his collar bone against his husband's as Francis lips pulled, sucked and played with his.

"Daddy? Papa?" came a groggy squeak, which instantly made Francis and Arthur jump apart."

"Yes, Alfie?"

"Mattie said you guys...you guys were making babies," Alfred said, half asleep.

"Don't be silly," Francis hummed, leaning forward and giving Alfred a kiss on the bridge of his nose, "Boys can't 'ave babies."

"Mmmm...that's what I thought..." he mumbled, "G'nigh..."

"Good night, baby," Arthur chuckled kissing his son's temple. Once he was sure Alfred was asleep, he glared up at Francis, "You need to keep Matthew away from your books!"

"Eet eez not mon fault if 'e is curious!" the Frenchman quietly defended himself, " 'e eez almost at zhat age-."

"No!" Arthur snapped, his entire being filling with fear and dread at the thought of his babies growing up. _No, they can't! They're **my** babies!_ "He's not!"

Francis was silent, seeing the fear and heartbreak written clearly in his husband's eyes. "Non...of course not..." The Brit ducked his head and looked away, not ready to face the truth of Francis' statement, but he was quickly followed by Francis' lips that pressed against his face -his forehead, his eyelids, down to the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his jaw his ears and, finally, his lips -and whispered sweet nothings and reassurances.

"Francis-."

"Papa..." they heard Matthew whimper tearily, "Daddy..."

"Oh, non, mon petit, you are ok, eet eez just a nightmare," Francis said, moving quickly to calm and soothe the trembling and whimpering form of his son, "Shhh, shhhh, mon baby, you are safe. You're Daddy et Papa are 'ere."

Matthew peeled his eyes open a crack, allowing tears to spill down his chubby cheeks, which were quickly reddening in embarrassment and from being so upset. "I'm sorry..."

"No, love, don't be sorry," Arthur said quickly, brushing the tip of his nose over Matthew's nose and cheeks, "You had a bad dream that was very scary, you're allowed to cry."

"W'at 'appened, Matthieu?"

"I-I...I was at school and we were coloring. I finished before anyone else and I went up to show my teacher -because I colored in the lines and everything! -and it was even a polar bear! But she couldn't see me and kept on talking to another kid. I kept on pulling on her clothes, so she'd see me, but she just pushed me away into this dark hole. I fell until I was in the living room, with Al who was playing his video games again, but when I tried to ask him what was going on, he just ignored me. I went into the kitchen where Papa was making dinner and Daddy was looking at the newspaper and drinking tea. You guys were talking about how you liked having only one baby and, when I tried to tell you you had two, you guys just ignored me! You said you...you said you were glad you didn't adopt the other one!" Matthew exclaimed beginning to sob brokenly into his tiny fists, his voice breaking and weakening on the last sentence.

Francis paled. "Oh, mon cher-."

"That's not true, right?!" Matthew interrupted, looking back and forth between Francis and Arthur in a desperate manner, "Y-You don't regret getting me-?!"

"No!" Arthur exclaimed almost violently, "Of course we don't! We love you, baby! Just as much as we love Alfred; we love both of you so, so much, we can't even tell you how much you make us happy because there are no words in any language that could describe how beautiful this happiness is."

"R-Really...?"

"Yes," Arthur said simply, stroking Matthew's cheek with the palm of his hand, "Never forget that."

"Je t'aime, cheri, je t'aime, je t'aime," Francis mumbled, pulling Matthew's back closer to his chest, hugging him and gently beginning to rock back and forth. He was filled with insecurities that he wouldn't let Matthew see; insecurities and doubts about his parenting, about how much love he showed Matthew. Maybe he didn't show the boy enough, maybe he had unknowingly started to pay more attention to Alfred, maybe he was working too much, maybe he was a bad father, maybe Matthew would be better off without him, with just Arthur as a parent, maybe-. A cool hand on his cheek stopped his panic attack, it was soothing and, along with the soft smile Arthur gave him, it was like a balm to his frazzled nerves.

"Stop thinking," he commanded in a soft tone, tucking a strand of Francis' hair behind his ear, "You're a good father. See? You even got Matthew to go back to sleep after such a horrible nightmare."

Francis looked down, seeing Matthew cuddled into him and sleeping. "But...zhat dream-."

"It was not a reflection of how we treat him, Francis," Arthur said his voice firm but understanding, "It's obvious he is still trying to understand that he is adopted. We don't love him any less than if he was our own, but that can be a frightening and confusing concept for a child to understand."

"...Do you zhink we did ze right zhing by telling 'im?"

"Yes. If we didn't, he'd only be confused and angry once he was older. This gives him time to compute it."

"...Alright..." Francis said doubtfully but the Brit did nothing to fix or sooth that tone. There was nothing Arthur could do about it, Francis just needed time and it was only something Francis could understand on his own. Still, Arthur moved closer, moving Alfred so he subconsciously wrapped Matthew's body in a bear hug in order to curl up as much as possible and get the most cuddles; Arthur placed his hand on Francis' back, pushing the Frenchman forward, before leaning their faces as close together as was possible and loosely clenching his finger's in Francis' damp -from the shower- and wavy hair.

"Good night, my dear."

Francis allowed himself to relax beneath Arthur's hand, his own arm laying on top of the sleeping forms of his children in order to curl possessively around Arthur's waist. He closed his eyes with a light smile. "Bonne nuit, mes amours," he said, addressing not only his husband but his children as well. It wasn't long before the two adults fell asleep, lulled to that peaceful oblivion by the comforting inhale and exhale of their sons' breathing.

* * *

**ALRIGHT! I DID IT!**

**I don't know if this is up to your standards, _MangasAndMaple, _but I really, really hope you liked it~~!**

**So, now that I've proven that I _do_ do requests, I would like a lot more or I'll have no idea what you'd guys would like to see! And I _do_ do anything that you request of me**

**REVIEW PLEASE**

**I love you guys so much! Huggs and tickles!**

**~Kitty**


End file.
